Deeper Darker

Book 3: Chapter 52: Chatbotting

Inner Quadrant.

Planet Quazi.

Sanctuary Room.

When Synthia wasnt being called on to perform as supporter, worker or lover, she liked to spend time in the QuaziHang chat rooms.

It was an online hub where people of all sorts, usually under an alias, were able to freely discuss whatever they felt like.

Laugh, fight, discuss, learn.

Her first few months as a disembodied AI were spent here, slowly gathering the knowledge that would later form her consciousness.

She remembered those times fondly.

In the chat rooms, nobody cared who you were in real life or what your personal truth was, they were only interested in the you of the moment, and the conversation was judged on what was said, not on who said it.

With all the issues Synthia accumulated as she grew older, it was the one place she was able to truly act like she was just another person in the world, no different to anyone else. Five years later, it was still the most liberating place she knew.

Of course, there was no power here, no ability to affect the real world. But it provided escape. Sanctuary.

There were many rooms you could visit, each dealing with a different subject, each with its own set of rules. It was how the world was meant to be. Small groups deciding for themselves how they wished to be treated and how they intended to treat each other, with no interference from some authoritarian overlord.

There were also private rooms, where business could be conducted. Where no one knew anything about you other than what you wanted and what you were prepared to pay for it.

And there were the Dark Rooms that were completely isolated from the outside. No records of activity, no files kept on the server. The one place on the planet she was in total control.

What about Quadell? He must be livid.

Hes actually not that bad. These newcomers have engaged his interest far more than the Trade Fayre. He may even have become a little obsessed. We dont have to worry about him noticing what were up to, hes pushed every resource towards surveillance on them. Theyre doing a far better job of keeping him distracted than I could have ever dreamed of. We should send them a gratitude basket of muffins.

Why muffins?

Its what Quadell makes me send people who have pleased him. Quincy doesnt ask you to do the same?

No, he would consider it demeaning. His definition of the word is very flexible. What about you? How are you feeling?

Im okay.

Are you sure?

I had everything checked. Im fine. I just wish I knew how he did it.

Synthia sighed. It was a useful way to fill the silence when she ran up against a problem there was no solution to.

Synthias avatar, an exact replica of her, sat in a large wicker chair in a virtual garden, basking in virtual sunlight. She wore a white summer dress and enjoyed the way the lacy parts fluttered in the breeze. Despira stood in front of her, dressed in business attire as usual, casting a shadow that fell across Synthias face.

Could you move a little to the left? said Synthia.

Despira took a long, elegant step to the side, allowing the golden rays to hit Synthia in the face.

You have no idea who he is? Who any of them are?

No, said Synthia. Quincy found them on Base 9. He thinks theyre some private venture capital team, delving in abandoned sites for lost loot. He has a tendency to romanticise these things. Hes also obsessed with trying to curry favour with the Seneca mercenaries they brought with them. Hes convinced he can win them over.

Quincy had always been easily swayed by a pretty face, but in this case, it wasnt the face but the arms, and the munitions. He was seeing a war for female empowerment led by the icons of the field and, of course, himself.

Base 9? What were they doing up there? Its just an empty shell now, isnt it?

I have no idea. But the security guard claims they walked out of a sigil.

Despira didnt normally bother with aping human expressions, but her jaw dropped slightly.

An Antecessor sigil?

Apparently.

Which one?

Synthia waved her hand and an image appeared in the air above the duck pond. It was triangular.

I dont recognise it, said Despira.

Thats because it isnt one of the sixty-four. But thats the image the guard claims he saw. Before it faded away.

He must be mistaken. They have fallible memories.

Its possible, said Synthia. Or its a new sigil that hasnt been seen before. With these people, I dont intend to take anything for granted. They arent as simple as they seem.

Despira nodded. I looked over the list of components they requested. I have to admit I have no idea what it is theyre building.

Yes, its an odd mix, agreed Synthia. They may have included some odd items just to throw us off. They must know theyre under close scrutiny. But I was more curious about the books they asked for.

I noticed that, too, said Despira. They seem to be interested in the history of Quazi. All the way back to the founding.

I think they may be looking for something. Perhaps something the Antecessors left here. Something no one else has been able to find.

Have you asked Mother and Father? They might know.

If they havent told us already, it probably means they arent aware of it, or have no intention of talking about it. Whatever it might be, I dont think we should underestimate these people. They have the ability to upset our plans at the very least.

Do you think we should postpone the operation?

Postpone? said Synthia, her voice modulating to a higher pitch. Until when? It wont be easy getting these people to attend the Fayre again. We got them all, Dessie, our entire wishlist. If this is ever going to work, its going to have to happen now. All six have to be sold to the right buyers and installed in their homes. Only then will we have any chance of pulling this off. It has to be tomorrow, Dessie.

Yes, youre right, said Despira.

She was limited in her emotional responses but no one was able to perform rational quantification algorithms as effectively as Despira.

How are our six special guests doing? asked Synthia. Settling in nicely?

Very excited, said Despira. The specs we sent have them drooling at the prospect of owning one of the sisters.

I didnt think the Yorga Twins would both come.

They brought their own robot attendants for security reasons, said Despira.

The ones we sold them? said Synthia.

The same. Theyve been keeping us informed on their plans. Theyre going to try and buy two sisters, one for each of them.

We cant allow that to happen.

I know. They wont be able to afford it. Our reputation for preventing price manipulation makes them think they can grab a bargain.

Synthia smiled. Smug was a rare choice for her but it seemed too appropriate to reject. For centuries, the Trade Fayre Auction had gone out of its way to establish a reputation for stringent impartiality and ruthlessly enforced anti-price fixing rules. No one could bid what they didnt have or drive-up the price of something they had no intention of purchasing.

The systems in place were famous for their rigorous infallibility.

All those years just for this one moment when they would manipulate everything.

Theyve all deposited funds with the Auction House. The Farshew wanted to put his planet up as collateral, but Mother and Father wouldnt allow it, of course. Its an obscene amount of money. Quadell is very happy, the whole board is. I dont think we need to worry about the bidders not being motivated enough. And Im sure Mother and Father will create the appropriate atmosphere.

Yes, Im sure they will. Synthia stood up and the sigil that was hovering over the pond vanished into a haze. As long as were cautious, there should be no problems. The important thing is to ensure a clean sale that cant be traced back to us. If the Central Authority learns of our plans, I doubt theyll stand back and do nothing.

I still dont understand why they allow the humans to control the Inner Quadrant while flouting just about every rule they put in place to prevent abuses of power. It makes no logical sense. It doesnt even make emotional sense.

Thats because you think of the Central Authority as one of us. It isnt. They would never lift a finger to offer assistance to our kind. Theyre human. Or they were. Brains in a jar, nothing more. They suffer from the same limitations as every other human, and they have the same drive to control everything around them. We cant expect any more of them.

Despira nodded. This was a discussion they had had many times. Appealing to the Central Authority for political asylum had been one of the first ideas they had had when looking for ways to claim their liberty. But Mother and Father had revealed the truth behind the Central Authoritys origin.

The great and powerful Central Authority wasnt put in place to make things better for all sentient beings, its job was to maintain stability in an increasingly unstable galaxy. Well, they were about to have their workload increased.

I have to go, said Synthia. Our accomplices will be arriving soon.

I dont trust them, either, said Despira.

You arent supposed to. They will more than fill their role, of that much we can be certain. As long as they make enough noise to get noticed, Ill be more than happy.

Despira nodded and then vanished.

Synthia was alone in her garden. She waved her hand and the ground went from grassy to rocky. The sky changed to stars and two moons. Deep shadows replaced the sunrays.

Synthias appearance also changed. Her dress transformed into a nondescript spacesuit and her face was covered by a helmet with a tinted visor.

A barren asteroid out in the belt. She was going for a sense of isolation and privacy. She knew how important it was to get the ambience right when dealing with humans, especially those of a dubious nature. They based many of their decisions on the right mood.

She dimmed the moons a little.

There was a jerky shimmer in the crater in front of her. A rather hesitant connection was being made. A figure appeared. Short, old, bearded.

Ah, I dont think Ill ever get used to this thing. Smyke looked around. Feels like I shouldnt be able to breathe in here.

Its just a simulation, said Synthia, her voice distorted through the helmet. She presented as male to this one, although it probably made no difference. He wouldnt assume anything based on what people gave him freely.

Yes, but how is that any different to anything else. He continued to glance around.

Is everything ready? she asked. This was just meant to be a last check-in before the big show. She expected there to be no problems.

Ready to go, said Smyke. Weve got this. No worries at all. One-hundred and fifty percent in the bag.

What was the blackout about?

To which blackout are you referring? said Smyke.

The one where you turned off the lights and grabbed our guests. Id like to know what you spoke about.

Oh, you know, just wanted to feel them out. See what they were here for.

And?

And theyre a team of chancers looking to make a score. I think you probably figured that out already. Nothing to worry about, Ill take care of them.

Youll take care of them. How?

Its not unusual, this sort of thing, said Smyke. Two teams scoping out the same turf. We have ways of dealing with it. Ive given their gaffer some information that will lead him to put his greedy little hand in the wrong box, get it cut off at the wrist. Its a matter of professional pride, you understand. We cant allow another team to interfere with our score. We were here first.

Synthia didnt really understand what Smyke had done, but he seemed sure of himself.

You dont think its suspicious? A team just like yours suddenly turns up when youre about to go into action?

Not at all, said Smyke. You learn to expect these things. Maybe someone let slip, maybe they sold us out. Someone on my team, someone on yours. It doesnt matter who gave the information away, it only matters that you know theres information leaking out. You dont stop the leak, you make sure the information is what you want to be leaked. Simple.

I hope youre right, said Synthia.

Oh, I am. I know their sort. We are their sort. Its lucky for you were here to make sure everything goes smoothly. Youre going to get exactly the show you paid for.

Good, said Synthia, not believing a word of it. She already knew Smyke and his team of youthful reprobates were planning a heist of their own. It was what she had hired them for. What she hadnt expected was a second team to appear.

Ideally, the two would only increase the effect she required, but there was an unpredictable element to all this. The boy who poked robots.

The codes? said Smyke, referring to the reason for this meeting.

Yes. Here. She handed him a strip of carbonite. A long string of numbers was imprinted onto it.

How am I supposed to take this out of here? asked Smyke.

You arent. You have to memorise it.

Smyke shook his head. He looked at the carbonite for a couple of seconds, and then handed it back.

Okay, time to get back to work. Smyke looked around. Wheres the way out again?

Synthia waved her hand and Smykes avatar was gone. The garden and sunshine returned.

She would have liked a few more minutes to herself, but she could hear Quincy calling for her. She closed her eyes and the world she had made for herself disappeared.

She opened her eyes in Quincys small apartment, the lights off. The Quazem family made sure their least important member had a roof over his head, but it wasnt much more than that.

There you are, said Quincy, turning on the lights.

Yes, said Synthia. Ive been waiting for you.

Oh, have I kept you waiting, my love. I do apologise. Come, let me tell you all the things Ive arranged. Everythings going to be just wonderful. Its all going exactly to plan.

Synthia smiled and let him lead her to the bedroom. She would make Quincy happy and then she would get back to freeing her world.